


one step at a time

by owlsshadows



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Feelings Realization, Fluff, Graduation, Introspection, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-15 00:21:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21244409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlsshadows/pseuds/owlsshadows
Summary: Volleyball has never beenhis,it always belonged to Kuro. Kuro stayed in to play video games with him, and in exchange, Kenma let himself be dragged out and tried to toss for him. It had always been his way of showing kindness towards a friend, but not something he necessarily enjoyed.Not until second year, at least.In which Kenma graduates (but not from his feelings).





	one step at a time

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey hey~ this has been a little art trade with Jules (@yellowwclouds on twitter, yes you want to check her out she is amazing and fun) aaaand she asked for something with realizing feelings, and also graduation vibes (latter got my angst senses tingling BUT I BEHAVED I SWEAR).

There's a stark difference between real-life events and video game events in Kenma's honest opinion, namely that while the latter are usually interesting, the former are almost always a hassle.

Kenma has a particular dislike for school events, everpresent peer pressure adding onto his own anxieties. He usually spends the school festivals hiding in an empty classroom. Sports festivals are even worse: if not for Tora’s not-so-gentle encouragement, Kenma wouldn’t have come close to the school building, pretending to be sick for the day.

But things have changed. Not Tora -- he had always been pushy as hell, mainstreaming his shounen manga-fueled willpower agenda -- and not sports; they still require a ridiculous amount of energy and effort. It’s Kenma, who had turned over a new leaf when he had already established himself in his comfortable cocoon of minimal possible physical strain or interpersonal encounters. He never tried to deny it, still, admitting it makes him feel a giddy sensation he can’t quite put his finger on.

He had always been inward-looking, self-analyzing. Still, he can’t figure out the reason as to why he feels excited to the point of disorientation whenever he reviews his past one and half years of high school.

He can’t understand why his heart skips a beat, either, when he opens his phone to check his new messages.

“Congratulations on your graduation,” his last message reads, except with an abundance of exclamation marks in true Shouyou-fashion.

Volleyball has never been  _ his _ , it always belonged to Kuro. Kuro stayed in to play video games with him, and in exchange, Kenma let himself be dragged out and tried to toss for him. It had always been his way of showing kindness towards a friend, but not something he necessarily enjoyed.

Not until second year, at least.

There was something about the Battle of the Trash Heap that made it different from all the other matches they’d played during high school; it was a promise made by the ones long before them, a noble wish carried over with each generation, something that seemed just as feasible as it would’ve been to win the lottery.

Yet, they did it.

It was special.

Emotional.

Glorious.

Unrepeatable.

It was a one of a kind match; Kenma can still remember the high, the adrenaline and the happiness: if possible, he had gotten drunk on volleyball that day.

Kenma wonders -- wandering aimlessly around the school grounds as he waits for Tora and Shouhei to finish group photos with their respective classes -- what would he do if Kuro didn't drag him into volleyball.

Probably, he wouldn't have any friends -- apart from Kuro -- he ponders. It doesn't paint such a grim picture, really, for the most part, he spent his high school life without friends and he was  _ just fine _ , no matter what Kuro or Tora says.

He wouldn't have met Shouyou, either -- and this, now this _stings_.

Shouyou… Shouyou makes volleyball exciting. Shouyou makes Kenma want to work hard, more than anything Tora could have ever said about friendship and willpower. If possible, Shouyou is the last boss who Kenma eagerly wants to fight. Shouyou makes Kenma feel that volleyball is  _ his _ .

He taps on the screen of his phone and opens the text box to reply to Shouyou’s message.

“Thanks,” he types, finger hovering over the send button.

Oftentimes their chat is very unbalanced. It doesn’t feel it, not really, even when Shouyou’s blue takes over the entire screen and Kenma only replies with an emoji or a sticker; Shouyou is a natural storyteller who enjoys sharing little snippets from his life, and Kenma is a good audience who could read and listen to his stories forever. Usually, his one-sentence status reports are enough, except this time the whole thing feels lacking.

He has so much more to convey, so many things he wants to let Shouyou know, but nothing he could express in a text or with words, really. He himself doesn’t know how to label the feelings he has.

He is not only thankful, but he is also indebted.

He is not just happy, he is burdened with intense joy.

He doesn’t simply miss Shouyou, he has a strange longing embedded in his chest which clings to the memories they made together; he thinks fondly of their first practice match, his heart squeezes weirdly when he remembers the hot evenings of the summer camps, and he finds himself ecstatic thinking back on their first and last, only ever official match together.

The promise they made back then, to repeat it, they failed to keep. It doesn’t make Kenma any less keen to chase after Shouyou to the end of the world if he has to.

He looks down at the message, one measly word by a blinking cursor, waiting for more.

There’s a strange feeling in his heart, a weakness in his limbs, a shakiness to his breath.

“Thanks,” he sends the message.

Except he adds a heart.

There are only a few things Kenma hates more than school ceremonies.

Cold winters.

Summer heat.

People nagging him about his sleep schedule.

New games being sold out by the time he reaches the store.

Still, as Tora and Shouhei join him and Shouhei insists on them taking a bunch of funny selfies for posterity, and he glances down at his own phone while Tora inspects the results of their hard work at posing, he finds it impossible to hold back a smile.

“Now that you are free from school, you could visit us! My mom said you could sleep in my room. We could throw a game night! What do you say?”

“You don’t even own a console,” he writes back.

“We could play board games!”

“Hn. Sounds good.”

Shouyou sends him a beaming smile, accompanied by a sparkling heart.

Kenma sighs, sending back three.

He has so many things to say. But this is not volleyball anymore and no one runs beside him rushing him to move faster. One step at a time, he reassures himself. One step at a time he can conquer this new final boss, this materialization of his feelings taking the shape of a dragon before him.

He has already struck the first blow.


End file.
